Avian Antics

Written by: ilene bauer

My car was parked beneath a tree,
More gingkoish than oaken;
I never noticed birds a’perched,
Yet each one left a token.

The windshield was opaquely masked;
The roof and sides were splattered.
They missed the turned-in mirror,
Though that hardly even mattered.

You really had to give them props;
They surely were effective
In doing such a thorough job – 
I held off my invective.

We call somebody bird-brain
When we denigrate their smarts,
But mischief made of droppings
Proves their humor’s off the charts!